Flatline: 2D Danger
The trio in the TARDIS could almost hear the frown in Tailor's voice as she asked, "What do you mean, they're in the walls?" as quietly as she could to her parents so as not to alarm the humans around her.
"Have we done as much as we could?" the policewoman continued to speak for that reason of not hearing her, "No. Do we have any suspects? No. Off the record, I think the top brass are hoping, if they ignore this, it'll all just go away."
"I mean, they may be IN the walls," the Doctor repeated.
Tailor sighed and moved over to the policewoman, "Have you considered that they might be in the walls?"
"In the wa…" the policewoman began, sounding incredulous, but her mobile went off and she quickly answered, "PC Forrest. Yes, sir. MI5, sir," she glanced at Tailor a moment before heading out of the room to continue her conversation.
Tailor shook her head and turned to MK9, "MK9, fire at will."
Rigsy nearly jumped out of his skin when the tiny metal dog he'd likely thought was just some sort of high tech toy, fired a series of laser bolts at the wall across from them, creating a number of holes in it.
Tailor didn't hesitate to walk closer and flash the sonic at them, searching for anything in the walls that could help.
Rigsy looked back and forth between her and the dog, to the TARDIS on its back, "So, you and those folks in the box, you do this sort of stuff a lot?"
"My first time semi-solo," Tailor spoke, a beam in her voice, "But they do, yes, ALL the time. I assist, usually, but this time I'm taking lead."
"Not willingly," the Doctor grumbled, watching the feed, his eyes flickering back from it to the scan results that came through.
"Have to admit, she's doing a pretty good job though," Clara commented.
"She is her father's daughter," Angel remarked, "What did you expect?"
Clara gave her a look, "Being HIS daughter? For the house to explode," she cracked a smile as Angel laughed, "Being both your daughter, for her to be more than capable," she glanced at the Doctor, "And she's not alone," she reminded him.
He began to smile and nod, "Yes," he agreed, they were there, the three of them to keep her safe and…
"She's got Rigsy!" Clara cheered, having to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how his smile went to a fierce frown. She knew where his thoughts had gone, it was written all over his face, and she couldn't help but tease him, it was her job as the little sister.
"And MK9," Angel added, sending the Doctor a smile as he rolled his eyes at them ganging up on him, though her smile began to fall when she felt a shiver threatening to creep up her spine, "Sweetheart," she called to Tailor, "Where's PC Forrest?"
"I dunno," Tailor answered, "I'll go get her."
~8~
"I don't know," PC Forrest was saying into her mobile as she stood in the parlor of the flat, "Maybe they thought we weren't doing enough, sir," she paused a moment to listen to the response…when she noticed an odd crunching noise behind her and turned to see part of the wall appeared to be moving, "…can I call you back?" she slowly lowered the phone, frowning at the wall and lifting her torch to look at it more closely, sure that her eyes were just playing tricks on her and…
"Oi!"
She jumped at the shout, spinning around to see Tailor standing in the doorway to the other room, half leaning into this one.
"I've got a few questions if you have a mo?" Tailor smiled at her, though the grin was tense at best, the girl's eyes flickering to the floor and back to her.
"Right," Forrest nodded, "Yes, straightaway," she began to head for the door.
"Wait!" Tailor shouted a moment later, "Actually…"
Tailor hesitated a moment, unsure about whether to enter the room. She could have sworn she'd seen the floor rippling behind the woman, but…it was still and flat now. Maybe it was just an aftereffect of the optic nerve hack? But to be safe she flicked the sonic out, scanning the room quickly, before seeing the results appeared normal.
She looked back up at Forrest…and her gaze was pulled to something just behind her, "Hold on, what's that?" she stepped into the room, moving to Forrest's side to frown at another mural on the wall, "What do you make of that?" she asked, more to her parents and aunt than Forrest.
"Tailor, best to head out now," her father answered in her ear, "Your mother's seen that exact mural in a vision, we don't need to examine it further."
"But what is it?" Tailor asked, squinting at the odd painting. It looked like a series of red intersecting lines, she could tell there was some sort of pattern to it, but it was alluding her just what it was, "Rigsy!" she called out, "Come here, please?"
Not a moment later Rigsy and MK9 entered the room too, "Yeah?" he asked.
"Any idea what this is?" she asked, glancing back at the humans for any assistance. For all she knew it might be some sort of human thing she didn't recognize not being on Earth as long as they had.
"No?" Rigsy remarked.
The Doctor sighed in her ear, "Ok, give the room one more scan with the sonic and then get out, understood?" she nodded and began to do a quick walk about the room with the sonic as he continued to speak, "What are we missing?"
"It's tricky," her mother agreed, her voice just a bit distant being further away from the comm., but Tailor could hear her, and she knew her mother would be close to the doors if anything happened, "The TARDIS should be able to detect anything in the known universe."
"Hold on," Tailor straightened, frowning, one particular word sticking out more to her, "The known universe. As in THIS one, but…what if it's not? What if it's not this universe?"
"Or maybe it is this universe," Clara's spoke, "Tailor, turn back to that mural a moment?" Tailor did so, "I recognize that, I was covering the biology class last week, when the teacher had a bit of a spill at school. I know that pattern. That's a nervous system!"
"It is!" the Doctor realized, "It's scaled up and flattened, but it IS that," he let out a breath, "I think we've found that first victim…what's left of them, at least."
Tailor grimaced at that, frowning at the wall, "That's their nervous system?"
"Then what was the other one?" her mother asked, "If this was a flattened version of the nervous system, what was the other mural?"
The Doctor was silent a moment, sounding almost reluctant to speak when he finally did, "It was a microscopic blow up of human skin."
"Oh, that's disgusting," Tailor winced at the thought, feeling a bit sick right now.
"I am too, sweetheart," her mother reassured her, just as she started to feel like she wasn't doing a good job at being like her parents if just a painting was affecting her and making her want to run away.
This really WAS harder than they made it look, wasn't it? She hadn't been lying to Clara when they were on the moon, that her parents made taking care of other people while on adventures seem easy. Clara had had a very hard time enjoying that trip due to Courtney possibly being in danger all the time. But it was more than that, she was realizing now that it was HER turn to be her parents. It wasn't just the keeping people safe, it was the working out what was wrong, it was the trying to stop it parts too. She'd never been the one to have to work out the problem before. She did have her parents helping, but she was taking lead, as she'd said, and she felt like she HAD to be the one to work it out, to prove she could be just as good as her parents were. But it was hard, to really not know what was happening and have to piece it together, to have to do it faster than anyone because the longer it took the more other people could get hurt.
She really had to give her parents a massive hug after this, if this was how it felt all the time for them.
How did her father and mother ever find a way to have fun or appreciate an adventure when there was so much pressure on them?
"Whatever they are," the Doctor spoke, "They are experimenting. They're testing. They're...they are dissecting. Trying to understand us. Trying to understand...three dimensions."
"Tailor, sweetheart, please get out of there now," her mother spoke, "You, PC Forrest, Rigsy, and MK9, you need to leave before whatever it is realizes you've worked it out."
Tailor nodded, "Ok, I think I've seen enough for today," she spoke up to the others, the two humans hunched together and looking at the painting, quietly speaking to each other to work out what it might be, unaware she'd found out the truth, "It's clearly some sort of defacement," she added, hoping that, if the things in the walls were still there, they wouldn't realize what she'd worked out, "Graffiti or something, should speak to the others, those community service blokes, see if any of them were in the area…come on," she turned and headed for the door, trying not to be tense or let on her nerves.
But just as she reached it, the parlor door slammed shut.
Rigsy rushed for it, trying to grab the handle to yank it open, sometimes the wind got in through cracks in the house and caused all manner of things to slam…but all that happened was his hand slamming into the door as though the handle wasn't even there, "Ow! The handle."
Tailor frowned down at it, "Speaking of three dimensions," she warned her parents, "They've flattened the handle into two."
"Well that would be fascinating in other circumstances," the Doctor spoke up, "Tailor, if they operate in two dimensional space, you need to keep everyone away from flat surfaces, like the walls and the ceiling and…"
"And the floor?" Tailor cut in, looking around the corners of the room where she could see the faint shimmering she'd seen earlier…and now noticed that the furniture around them was becoming two dimensional as well…growing steadily closer to where she and the others had gathered in the middle of the room.
"You need to get out of there!" Clara shouted.
"Yes, thank you, never would have guessed that," Tailor snipped under her breath, reaching down to pick up MK9 and the TARDIS from his back, not wanting to risk whatever this was getting to them.
She nearly jerked back when a hand stuck itself out of the TARDIS, palm facing down, and a shimmering gold began to form under their feet. She did, however, sag in relief when she saw that the shimmering stopped just at the edge of the Vortex power.
"Mum, you shouldn't risk it," she told her mother, "If this thing feeds on any kind of energy…"
"It can't reach it," Angel's voice spoke, this time from the comm. and also the door of the TARDIS, "I'm hovering you lot an inch or so off the floor."
"Are you?" Tailor looked down again, not even having noticed, "Well, isn't that wizard?"
"Not wizard enough," her mother countered, "We still need to get you lot out of there…"
Tailor began to look around, trying to find any way out of the room. Her mother could teleport herself, teleport others too…but this situation was tricky as it seemed the TARDIS had cut off her abilities to do that within the box…and with her not being there or having seen where they were or what was outside, it was too dangerous to teleport blindly…
"Window!" Tailor pointed at it.
"Here, get on!" Rigsy shouted, scrambling onto a hanging chair set up a few feet away from the window, "Get on, get on!" he urged, half yanking Tailor and PC Forrest onto it with him, "If we swing it enough, we can jump out!"
"That's brilliant!" PC Forrest gaped, before helping him start to swing the chair.
Tailor opened her mouth to say that her mother might be able to help them get to the window…but snapped it shut and decided to help them instead. She really wanted to be able to do this without too much help from her parents, she wanted to prove herself capable and if she could help them all escape without her mother needing to do much…she'd rather that.
And, worse case, she knew her mother and father would work out a way to help as a back up, she just really hoped this way worked first.
She frowned, hearing an odd noise in here ear, "Has someone's mobile gone off?"
"Sorry!" Clara shouted.
"Is now REALLY the time?" her father huffed at her aunt.
"Sorry, sorry!" Clara repeated, before the noise cut off, "Off now!"
"Was that Danny?" Tailor asked, swinging more.
"Does that matter?!" the Doctor nearly shouted, "Concentrate!"
She winced at the volume of his voice in her ear, knowing he was just worried about her but also she was worried for her aunt too. She knew things had been tense between Clara and Danny, she didn't need to be psychic to see it on her aunt's face. She didn't want to make it worse or be the cause of it getting worse. Clara would never take a call from anyone, not while her niece's life was in danger, and it made her feel a bit guilty that she was the reason she'd effectively ignored Danny.
"Sweetheart," her mother's voice came out, doubled again, "I'm going to shatter the window for you, ok?"
"Look!" Rigsy gasped, pointing at what looked like wave-like shimmering moving up the walls, "Look! They're climbing the walls."
Tailor glanced up at where the waves were nearing the chain connecting the chair to the ceiling, "Do it mum!" she told the woman, "MK9, fire!" she directed the dog to fire the laser up, blasting the end of the chain just as the chair hit the right swing to send them flying through the window that shattered a moment before they reached it in a golden glow.
Tailor grunted as she landed on the street just outside the house, Rigsy and Forrest rolling away from where the chair had dropped them. She laid there on her back for a moment, before looking down at MK9 sitting on her chest, the TARDIS held firmly under her other arm, the doors now closed, "You ok?" she asked the dog.
"Affirmative!" it squeaked, its ears and tail wagging.
She let her head fall back down onto the ground, just taking a moment to get her breath back.
Rigsy was panting beside her, trying to push himself onto his knees, though PC Forrest had the most active reaction, scrambling to her feet.
"I need to get to the station," she wheezed, looking at the two of them, "Someone needs to report this and get backup!"
"Oh, wait, don't…" Tailor tried to call out, but the woman had already taken off, "Great."
"Don't worry, sweetheart," her father's voice sounded in her ears, though there was a muffled quality to it, and she could just picture him by her mother, both of them hugging tightly and relived she was ok, "We'll send a report through when this is fixed, some sort of hallucinogenic laced on the walls or something."
"Right," she sighed, taking one more moment, before pushing herself up, setting the TARDIS on MK9's back, "Come along, Rigsy," she held out a hand to help heft him the final ways up, "We should probably get away from here, quickly."
Rigsy nodded, the two of them hurrying off.
~8~
Inside the TARDIS, Clara could only smile as she watched the Time Lords tightly hugging by the doorway. She was relieved herself that Tailor was alright, she'd felt too much like she had on the Moon, when Courtney had been in danger, her responsibility to protect and she failed to do so. But this was so much more than that, Tailor wasn't a student of hers, she was family, she was as good as her niece, and the girl had been in danger without them physically there to protect her.
It had to be so much worse, and so much more relief, to the Time Lords though, for it was their daughter. It was their child, it was their job, above anything and everything else, to keep their child safe, and Tailor had been in the middle of terrible danger. It wasn't as bad, to them, when they were there beside her to keep her safe, to be there to step in and help…to be trapped here and unable to do much…she had honestly never seen the Doctor so frightened. He'd had his eyes glued to the monitor, was gripping the edge of the console so tightly his knuckles were white, the scars on his one hand stretched. Angel as well, the woman was normally so calm, but even she was alarmed. She had been able to see the Time Lady from across the room, her arm shoved through the doors, turned to press herself more to it, her eyes scrunched tight as she tried to both sense things and help with the Vortex.
And once it was over, once Tailor was out of that house, the Doctor had been a streak of black, rushing to the other side of the room and pulling Angel into his arms, the two just needing that moment, a moment only parents could understand, to comfort each other. Their daughter was alive, they had helped her, she was ok and safe and out of that house.
It killed her to have to be the one to disturb their moment and remind them that the danger wasn't truly over.
"Um, Doctor?" she called out, "The gauge has moved."
The Doctor sighed, nodding even as he rested his forehead to Angel's, taking one more moment to absorb the peace he always felt from her, steeling himself, before he turned and moved over to the console to check. He doubted Angel would take a single step away from that door now, not after what just happened, his daughter was safe with her there, and now it was his turn to keep her safe from the console.
He frowned at the reading for the audio and turned to the comm., "Tailor, can you hear me?"
"What?" Tailor's voice called back, "Sorry, there was static, you're breaking up a bit."
"The breaking of the window affected the earpiece," he reasoned, working out that the loudness of the shattering and everyone shouting had shorted out the levels, as the gauge was indicating, "Take it out and sonic it."
"What?"
"Angel?" he looked over at her.
Angel nodded and opened the doors to repeat the instructions to Tailor.
"Gotcha!" Tailor cheered, the video feed showing her doing just that.
"So," Clara looked at him, "What's going on? Have we figured it out yet?"
The Doctor sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Partly," he admitted, though he wished he could have said that he knew exactly what was going on, "Whatever they are, they're from a universe with only two dimensions. And, yes, that is a thing," he cut Clara off when she opened her mouth, "It's long been theorized, of course, but no one could go there and prove its existence without a heck of a diet."
"How's that?" Tailor asked, putting the earbud back in, though her gaze was on Rigsy as he appeared to rush over towards the pedestrian subway as they neared it, where a few of the other community service men appeared about to paint over the mural of the backwards facing people, "Better?"
"Hey!" Rigsy shouted as he rushed over, "They can't do that. Hey! What you doing?"
"Can you hear us now, sweetheart?" the Doctor tried.
Tailor laughed, "Much better!"
"Our job," an old man was defending, glaring at Rigsy even as Tailor approached, "You're on report, by the way. Late back from lunch."
"It's a memorial!" Rigsy was yelling.
"Council didn't approve it, it's graffiti. Stan."
"What are you doing?!" Rigsy grabbed the paint brush as Stan lifted it, glaring at them all.
"Dad," Tailor whispered, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked, staring now, past the arguing men and to the mural.
The Doctor frowned for only a moment, before his eyes widened at what she was saying, "It's the mural!" he agreed, "The missing people, they're in the walls!"
"Right," Tailor nodded, "So, act normal but try to get everyone away from the wall?"
"Correctamundo," he winced, "WHY do I keep using that rubbish word?"
"Because it's a brilliant word," Tailor quipped right back, straightening and heading right up to the men, "You know, this mural is rather realistic," she began, cutting into their fight, "Anyone know who painted them?"
"I don't know," Rigsy shrugged, "A local artist. Probably a grieving relative."
"Yeah, but has anyone actually SEEN them being painted or did they just…appear…after the people disappeared."
Clara could tell just in the tone the girl used that she was giving Rigsy a pointed look, trying to hint to him what might be happening without alarming him.
"And who are you when you're at home, love?" the old man sneered at her.
The Doctor's eyes immediately narrowed at the look the man was giving his daughter, at the attitude, "If he doesn't back off…" he began, a hint of a threat in his voice.
Clara had to smile at his protective paternal side, for as much as he didn't seem to care for many humans, the care he showed the people he loved was always something to behold.
Tailor just held up the psychic paper, "Doctor Taylor Jones, representing health and safety, pleasure," she offered, "This area has been deemed unsafe and off limits, I'm afraid you're all going to need to leave."
"This is blank," the old man stated, "Try again, sweetheart."
Tailor blinked, "You have a severe lack of imagination, don't you?" she asked.
The Doctor cracked a smile at that, at the implication that the man was neither psychic nor a genius and that was the only other reason why he didn't see anything on the paper.
The old man, however, just rolled his eyes and turned to snap at his men, "Stan! Do your job."
The man Rigsy had snatched the brush from earlier, turned back to the wall, another paintbrush in hand.
"Watch out!" Tailor shouted, yanking Stan back just as the tip of the brush reached the wall, causing the man to let go of it.
They all stared in shock as the brush remained where it was, as though held in the air by nothing…until it was sucked into the wall and became part of the mural.
"What the hell…" Stan breathed.
"Oi, language!" the Doctor snapped, "No foul language around my daughter!"
"Dad, I'm 405," Tailor grumbled under her breath, honestly an hour with Torchwood and she'd probably hear worse than that.
"What's happening?" Rigsy gaped, and they could see that the other figures all along the wall had now turned around, their faces revealed.
"What is this?" another man asked, "What are they?"
"Doctor?" Clara looked at him for an answer.
But he was grim in his response, "They're wearing the dead like camouflage," he watched through his daughter's eyes as the figures seemed to blend and almost melt together as they moved, "Tailor, get away from there, now!"
"Come on, all of you," Tailor shouted as she turned and led them away from the subway, "Andiamo!"
The Doctor's jaw tensed as he watched the creatures begin to move along the ground, reaching and stretching, as they tried to follow the group as they headed for a train shed nearby.
~8~
Tailor slammed the door to the shed closed behind her, flicking the sonic on the lock. She didn't know how these aliens worked, whether they would creep under the door or have to go up the door and around the edges of it, so anything to slow them would help.
"MK9," she turned to the dog, "Melt the bottom of the door, please."
"Affirmative, Mistress," MK9 scooted back, a laser forming from his nose in less than a blast but more a steady stream, melting the base of the door to help block the way.
Once that was finished she spun around, about to hurry over to the group of five men...when she realized exactly where they were, or, more so, how dark it was. She crossed her arms across her chest for a moment, swallowing hard, now a little shaken. She loved the running, she liked encountering new things, even if some of them were dangerous, but the dark...that was something she'd always had trouble with. It reminded her too much of Kovarian, of the Silence, and the orphanages, the space suit, being alone...
She looked down when MK9 nudged her leg, looking up at her a moment before his eyes flickered, moving to torch-mode for more light. She smiled, crouching down to pat the dog on the head, laughing a bit under her breath as his tail wagged, happy to have helped her, before she pushed herself up and moved over to the men, MK9 rolling after her.
"Hold on," she could hear her father's voice in her ear, "Did you just lock yourself in a room with a group of boys?!"
"Dad, NOT the time," Tailor huffed under her breath, "And I'm older than all of them combined," she reminded them.
"Did they follow us?" one of the men called to her, cutting off the Doctor's next words, "Cos I didn't see them follow us."
"Are we safe?" Stan panted, still very shaken up by his close call.
"Are we really hiding from killer graffiti?" another man looked to his coworkers, "This is insane."
"Were they?" she could hear Clara asking the Doctor.
"We'll have to think of a better name for them than that," he muttered in response.
Tailor rolled her eyes and began looking around the room, trying to see if there was anything she could use to help them, but there was nothing but trains in different states of disrepair.
"Sweetheart, listen," her father spoke up to her, "This is a vital stage. This little group is currently confused and disorientated, but pretty soon a leader is going to emerge. You need to make sure that leader is you."
Tailor smirked to herself, "You're putting me in charge then?"
He huffed, "By association," he reminded her, "And temporarily."
"Of course," she huffed in return.
…but he apparently wasn't finished, though his next words were more under his breath than anything, "And the leader is the one the others protect first."
"Dad, I'm not gonna let humans die just to keep myself safe," she told him, "You taught me better than that. You wouldn't let Wilf die, even when it would have saved you from regenerating, mum wouldn't let Steven be harmed even though she didn't know if the 456 frequency would harm her. I'm your daughter, I can do no less."
"She's got you there, Doctor," Clara's voice spoke, but directed at the Doctor, "You raised her too well."
"I'm starting to regret that," he murmured.
"No, you're not," her mother's voice countered.
Tailor smiled, she knew that her father was actually pleased, or would be if not for the circumstances, that she had the spirit and care she did. It was all she had ever seen from her parents, that drive to help and protect. It was why she'd picked her name, to mend and create and stitch together. Right now, she had to stitch together a plan.
Even though she didn't agree with her father's reasons for wanting her to be in charge, she knew there was also a point to it beyond wanting her safe. Of all of them, SHE was the one with the better idea of what was happening and, with her connection to her parents and Clara, she was the one with the resources to help. She had to be in charge to make sure the other humans didn't do something wrong or stupid or make things worse.
"George," Tailor spun on her heel, walking up to the first man who had spoken, "You're on lookout, keep your eye on the door and if you see any shifting or shimmering on the floors or walls, you let me know, ok?"
"He will do no such thing until I get some answers!" the old man snapped, "Who ARE you? That's what I want to know. Impersonating a government official. Trespassing on council property."
"Always the council with you people," Tailor muttered under her breath, recalling a few stories from her Aunt Rose's time about councils getting in the way, "Well, since you asked so nicely," she crossed her arms, speaking up, "I'm the Tailor, a Time Lady of Gallifrey, daughter of the Doctor and the Angel. I'm 405 years old and I'm your best chance of getting out of this alive. Now, Rigsy," she turned around to him, ignoring any reaction or response the old man might have had at her words, her admission of being an alien, "Are you at all familiar with this area? Like that door," she pointed to one behind them, "Do you know where it goes?"
"It's the old Brunswick line," Rigsy answered.
"But it's not safe," Stan added as a reminder.
"Well, there's safe and there's safe…" the second man muttered.
"My dad would LOVE you, Peter," Tailor offered the man a smile.
"I'm not loving any of them right now," the Doctor muttered into her ear, "Unless they keep you safe, then I'll reconsider."
"But yeah," Rigsy added, pulling Tailor's attention back, "I know it. I used to go down there all the time."
"Yeah, I'll bet you did," the old man sent him a glare, "Painting your filth."
"I don't care what he was doing down there," Tailor rounded on the old man, "Just that he knows what's down there and how to get through it. If it hasn't occurred to you already, that happens to be our only way out," she took a few steps away, glancing at the humans, at George keeping a steady lookout from the edge of the group, to where Peter was trying to check if Stan was alright or going into shock, and muttered to herself, "I really don't know how you and mum make it look so easy, dad."
"Make what look easy?" he asked her.
"Keeping everyone alive."
"You're doing well, sweetheart," he reassured her.
"Trust your sensations," her mother added, "You already saved one of them."
Tailor frowned, "When did I…"
"Stan."
Tailor blinked, "I…I pulled him away," she realized, "I…I didn't even realize I'd done it, I just…reacted."
Her father let out a low chuckle, "Now, who does that remind me of?"
"Shut up," her mother's voice teased back, which made her smile.
So many people compared her to her father, with how clever she was and curious and excitable to learn new things. Those rare moments where she reminded people of her mother, they were just as touching to her. And to find out that she'd apparently done something her mother had when she was first developing her abilities? Well, that just gave her even more hope for the future and what her own abilities might become one day.
"So what's the next step?" she asked her parents.
"Lie to them," Clara answered.
"What?" her father asked.
"Lie to them," Clara repeated, "Give them hope. Tell them they're all going to be fine. Isn't that what you would do?"
"It's not lying if you believe you can do it, if you have a plan," Angel remarked, "Hope, faith, can be a very powerful thing."
"I try not to give people false hope," the Doctor added, "But, with Angel around, my luck has been considerably better in that department…"
"Who's she talking to?" Tailor glanced behind her, hearing the old man asking that to one of his men.
"Rigsy says it's MI5," Peter answered.
She shook her head, trying to focus back on her conversation with her parents, MK9 rolling up to her feet, to protect her she knew.
"You know what I don't understand?" Clara asked.
"That could be anythin…ow!"
Tailor snorted, hearing her father beginning to be rude and then be cut off.
"Why did you shock me?" he demanded, getting a responsive hum from the TARDIS, and she could imagine him with his hands on the controls as one sparked under his skin.
"You were being rude, my love," Angel told him.
"What don't you understand, Aunt Clara?" Tailor asked.
"At those houses, it was…it was skin and a nervous system," Clara began, "And at that mural it was the shapes of people…"
"Right?"
"But there were also those tracks, remember?" Clara asked, "At the estate, there were footprints and tire tracks on the ground."
Tailor blinked, she hadn't actually noticed that.
"I thought it was graffiti, but what if it wasn't? What if it was these creatures, you know? But WHY would they have that? I mean, compared to skin or…"
"I think…" the Doctor began, "That is how these creatures saw us. The impressions we make in two-dimensional space. That was them reaching out. Attempting to talk. At which point they moved into flattening and dissection. Trying to understand. Trying to emulate."
"I wonder if they know that they're hurting people by doing that?" Tailor mused.
"They might," Angel's voice spoke up, sounding thoughtful, like she was on the cusp of a sensation, "Once the person has been flattened, they would join that world, they would be connected to it. Wouldn't they have to feel it then?"
"Why don't we ask them?" the Doctor suggested.
"How?" Tailor frowned.
"Turn around?" he asked and so she did, "There, those loudspeakers…"
"Right," Tailor nodded slowly, getting it, "Oi, Rigsy, could you help me a moment?" she asked, heading over to them, "I need a step-ladder if you see one…"
"Here!" Rigsy found one quickly, moving over to her side to set it up at the base of the speakers, allowing her to climb up it and sonic parts of it.
"Good, thanks!" she smiled down at Rigsy, "I've got some…colleagues…on the line," she told the other men so she wouldn't seem insane, "They might be able to set up some communications between us."
"Why do we need speakers?" Clara asked as she worked, "Wouldn't the TARDIS just translate?"
"Sissy wouldn't be able to follow it," Angel answered, knowing better than all of them this part at least, "They can't understand space and dimension, their language would reflect that and be something like gibberish to the translation circuits. We have to translate it into something she can understand first."
"This is a bad idea," the old man groused, "What makes this colleague of yours think those monsters even want to talk?"
Tailor snorted, "Not every perceived act of aggression is actually aggressive or hostile," she told them, "There are these very docile species made of sentient gas and they throw fireballs at people because that's how they wave to each other."
"Probably a better example than I would have went with," the Doctor mused in her ear, "There's another race with 64 stomachs who talk to each other by disemboweling."
Clara's grimace was clear in her voice, "Yeah, I like her example better."
"We can't know for sure what they do or don't realize," Angel mused, "The universe if vast and complicated with so many different species, you should never be too quick to judge. I don't have a clear feeling on them," she admitted, "Being in here and not out there, things feel…fuzzy. But even then..." she struggled to get a feel of it, "I don't think it'll be like with the Foretold, where we say something nice and it stops."
"There's a chance these creatures don't even understand that we need three dimensions to live in," the Doctor agreed, "They may NOT know that they're hurting us," they may have to say something less than nice to get them to stop.
"Do you really believe that?" Clara asked.
"I think we all hope it," Tailor answered under her breath, before announcing, "Right, all set up."
"Ok, let's start with pi," the Doctor said, and Tailor could hear the sound of tapping on a keyboard, "Even in a flat world they would have circles. I don't mean edible pie, I mean circular pi. Which I realize would also mean edible pie but...anyway…"
Tailor glanced up as a chirrup sounded, "We've got something…"
"Sissy is working on translating now," Angel told her, "55?"
"Yes," the Doctor confirmed her guess from the noises the TARDIS was making, "It's a number. 55."
"What does that mean, 55?" Tailor frowned.
"Tenth Fibonacci number?" her father began to list, "Atomic number of caesium."
"Maybe it's not 55," Clara suggested, "Maybe it's 5 and they're just repeating it?"
"55?" Rigsy spoke, pulling Tailor's attention over to him, "We all have numbers on our jackets…"
"That's my number," Stan stated, tensing and looking around as though something was going to leap out at him.
"They're threatening us!" the old man stated.
"Or they could be apologizing," Tailor pointed out.
"An apology? Are you seriously..."
"Um, miss…" George called out, cutting off the old man.
Tailor held up a hand to him, looking up at the chirruping noise as it sounded again.
"2," Angel told her in her ear, "Or 22."
"22?" Tailor looked over at the men, "Which of you has 22?"
"Me," George called, swallowing hard, though he didn't look over at them.
"Looks like your number's up, George," the old man sneered, "Now they're threatening."
"George, what's wrong?" Tailor called over to the man, who didn't even react to the old man's remarks.
"Hey now, come on," Peter frowned at the old man, "They might just be showing that they can read, you know."
"Oh, grow up," the man scoffed, "They're picking targets."
"You said to let you know if I saw anything moving…" George began, stepping back, his eyes trained on the floor.
Rigsy and the other men didn't seem to hear, all of them still carrying on behind them, "Of course you'd see it that way," Rigsy remarked.
"What do you mean by that?" the old man demanded.
"Have you seen something?" Tailor moved beside him, trying to look in the direction he was to see what he saw.
"Everyone's out to get you, aren't they?" Rigsy continued to fight with the old man.
"In this case, they kind of are!" the man snapped.
And then she saw it, the shimmering on the ground and grabbed his arm, "Everyone, to the tunnel!" she ordered, spinning and yanking George after her as they ran for the door.
"Good job, sweetheart," her father reassured her, "Get out of there."
~8~
The Doctor watched the monitor closely, Angel peering out the cracked-open doorway of the TARDIS set on MK9's back, ready to help, as the group rushed down the tunnels, Clara keeping her gaze on the gauges as this would NOT be the time for the comm. or visual of Tailor to cut off.
The younger Time Lady flicked the sonic, using it as a torch with MK9 shining lights out of his eyes to assist. They ran for the nearest door within the tunnel, Peter about to reach for it when Tailor grabbed his wrist.
She shook her head, "It's flat," she told them, seeing the shadowing from the torchlight was wrong. She sighed, "So they WERE here, but they aren't here now, I don't think."
"I think they've stopped chasing us," Stan added, glancing behind them.
Clara glanced at the Doctor, reaching out to cover the microphone he was using for a moment to ask, "They're not cornering them, are they?"
He could only give her a look that said he hoped for all the world that they weren't, but couldn't be sure, "You can't apply human logic, you're dealing with creatures from another dimension," he said instead.
It sounded weak even to his own ears.
"That's three exits all blocked by those creatures," Peter stated on the monitor.
Tailor took a breath, "Rigsy, where's the next exit?"
"The only other one I can think of is where the old line joins the new, but it's a fair walk," he warned, "Getting through that door would be quicker," he looked at Tailor and down at MK9, "Can't he…" he made some gestures with his hands like mimicking a blast being fired.
She shook her head, "We don't know if they made the other side of that door solid too or how thick it is, shouldn't waste the battery," she told him, before muttering under her breath, "What I wouldn't give for mum to be here."
"Oh, thanks," the Doctor huffed, rolling his eyes in a joking manner, though he sent Angel a fond smile for their daughter's words. It warmed his hearts, the bond Tailor had with Angel, the one she had with him too. They were both her parents but it was always a wonder to him to see how the bond they had with their daughter was different, but every bit as strong and unique as the other's.
"You know what I mean, dad," Tailor defended.
He nodded, having Angel there would mean using the Vortex to destroy the door or to possibly teleport them onto the other side of it. It would have taken him centuries to disintegrate the door with just the sonic.
"Let me try," Angel spoke from the doors, glancing through them to observe the humans, making sure they weren't looking, before she threw out her hand at the door, sending a testing blast of the Vortex power at it, enough where it would break a door open but not crumble a wall...it did nothing. It was like it was just a wall, solid through.
The Doctor frowned as he watched the men jump back, looking around to try and figure out where the golden blast had come from, when a thought occurred to him, "Hold on," he called out, turning to rush up the stairs, pausing halfway to turn, "Clara," he gestured to the monitor for her to take his spot, before he continued up, "I might be able to help with that door. Give me five minutes!"
"Until then," Tailor said, "Rigsy? Help me make a perimeter?"
The man on the monitor nodded, turning to walk off with her as the four other men waited behind for them to scout the area.
"Hey!" Rigsy grinned, spotting some graffiti on the wall they passed, "It's one of mine. Do you like it?"
Clara had to bite her lip as she glanced over her shoulder at where the Doctor was frantically working. It didn't appear that he'd heard the boy, which was just as well. Knowing him he'd see it as Rigsy fishing for a compliment or trying to show off for Tailor.
Tailor, contrary to what her father would have done, actually turned to the work and considered it, really seemed to be giving it a look over from where her eyes were roving, "That's actually really cool," she offered, "I like it," she glanced at Rigsy as they continued on, "So is spray paint your preferred medium?"
"Yeah," Rigsy practically beamed at the idea of anyone taking an interest in his work.
Clara glanced at the monitor, then to Angel who was watching on with a small smile, her back to the wall and her arms crossed. She laughed to herself, looking back over her shoulder to where the Doctor seemed to have made some decent headway in his own work. She shifted to the side to block the monitor so he wouldn't see Tailor (gasp!) conversing with a boy!
"What are you actually trying to make?" she asked, hoping she might be able to distract him from noticing the conversation happening on the monitor.
"I think I've figured out a way to restore three dimensions," he said, "At least on a small scale, like door handles."
"So, what's that, then? A de-flattener?"
He gave her an unamused look, "We're not calling it a de-flattener," he stated, making one last tweak to the device before he stood and hurried down, past the console, and over to the doors, "This should be able to restore dimensions…" he looked at Angel, handing her a pen and holding up the device, "Pick a name, any name."
Angel laughed, reaching out to scrawl a name across the side of it, which made him grin when he saw what she'd decided to call it.
"Perfect," he told her, kneeling down to pass the device out the door, hitting Tailor in the leg to try and get her attention.
"What's this?" Tailor asked, taking it from him so he could rush back to the console and see if it would work, "A Two-Dis?" she read the name, and chuckled, "That's clever, mum."
"Oi, how do you know I didn't name it?" the Doctor huffed as Tailor began to head back to the door to try the device.
"Because it's clever."
"Oi!"
Tailor chuckled, reaching the door and moving the device over to it, turning it on…
Only for it to overheat nearly instantly and explode in her hand, almost burning her had it not been for the golden sphere that appeared around it to keep the minor explosion contained.
"Thanks, mum," Tailor whispered into the comm., before sighing and looking at the other men, "Looks like we're going the long way round."
No sooner had she said that, alarms began to blare within the TARDIS.
A/N: It really IS much harder than it looks, isn't it? In the show, Clara did a great job of it, here I wanted to sort of explore Tailor's take. She is very clever in her own right, but she's also had her parents there for her every step of the way for a majority of her life, it's always been her and them, whereas Clara has had her independence and lived into an adult life. Tailor is still, technically, sort of like a teenager so her parents still take a lot of the responsibility, and with her history and how they lost her, they were not about to let up on that any time soon if they can help it. Little things here and there, fine, but always when someone was with her.
Right now, she's really more on her own, as on her own as she's ever been since finding her parents again. Even when she might have wandered off a time or two before, her parents always had the ability to get to her, they don't here. And with it being on HER, this responsibility to work out the danger and keep people safe, she's starting to realize she may actually have to tone down her mutterings about being ready. She's not quite as ready as she thought she was. Sort of like a typical teenager who is 'old enough' and wants more responsibility and to be treated like an adult, and then gets into a situation where they really need their parents or adult help and it sort of is like, ok, step back just a little and build up to it ;)
But, with how the episode went in the show...I think we all know there may come a point quite soon where Tailor will well and truly be on her own }:)
In lighter news though, the Doctor being stuck while his daughter is surrounded by five other men? O.O They best run lol :)
And another note...we're only 15 reviews away from a sneak peek! :D
Some notes on reviews...
Lol, overprotective Doctor is my favorite Doctor :) He can sort of tone it down a bit when he's actually THERE because his presence could be a bit intimidating in its own right, but to be stuck here with other people around his daughter? He's not handling it well lol :)
There's definitely a lot going on for Angel, she hasn't been having the easiest time the last few adventures :( And I can say it might get a tiny bit worse before this episode is over :'( We'll have to wait and see if she gets better once the TARDIS is ok ;) And thank you! I've added the votes to my little list to add to the final results ;)
Tailor being chased is sort of a good/bad thing. On the one hand, she likes the running and adventure, but on the other hand, her parents are going to be going mad with worry for her lol. I'm sort of picturing the leash kids, like when a parent puts their toddler on a little harness/leash (and yes, I was a leashed kid lol) so they don't wander off. I'm imagining this being over and the next time Clara sees the Time Lords it's Tailor with her harness and leash and NOT being impressed with her father at all lol :)